In Loving Memory
by Kailenth
Summary: After GoF, starts going AU from OotP's chapter three. After attempts to escort Harry to safety fail and he ends up in a cell in Malfoy Manor, all seems lost. He gets some surprising company in the cell; his parents, supposedly dead. Is their elation at being reunited short lived, or can Harry finally get to know his parents? Rated M for violence and bad language.
1. Chapter 1

A/N: Overused or not, this plot happens to be one of my favorites. Meaning James and/or Lily coming back to life. I'm just so sorry that such expectional people had to die so young! I know this is fiction, but still. Humour me, they're alive.

So, here goes. James and Lily come back to life. With much adventure, angst, maybe some romance...

Pairings include James/Lily, rather one sided Snape/Lily, Hermione/Ron, a hint of other pairings.

I'm also looking for a beta for this story if anyone's interested. Americanisms may ensue, I've learned most of my English from TV... I'm trying to use British spelling because Harry Potter is British, obviously.

I can't give promises on how often I'll update, but it will get finished. First chapters have already been written.

CHAPTER ONE

_August 2nd, 1995_

All was right in the Wizarding World, at least if Cornelius Fudge was asked. And as the Minister of Magic, he often was. He was sitting in his office, enjoying his night time tea. Much of the walls were covered in magazine cutting of articled concerning the Ministry's affairs. His desk was currently littered with scrolls, covering the better part of the space.

He had wished to go home on time today, but had been caught up with his duties. It was partly because Dumbledore would not stop sending him letters and demanding he take action against You-Know-Who. Somehow, Dumbledore had been charming the letters to be quite persistent until they were read, so there was no ignoring them. Next, he'd be sending him, the Minister, Howlers. Even more irritating were the worried letters from people who were buying the lie. Much of his time was spent delegating the inquiries to his employees.

A haggard looking witch, his assistant of four years, strode into his office without knocking, carrying several scrolls of parchment in her hands.

"I just received word from Mafalda. The Potter kid used the Patronus Charm in Little Whinging, in front of his Muggle cousin. Your memo informed the whole Ministry to bring matters concerning Potter straight to you."

It took a moment for Fudge to comprehend what he'd just been told. Slowly, a smile spread across his face, and his stale tea started to taste much better than it had moments before. "Excellent. Yes, Mafalda was right to send word. Would you please send word back to her, Amanda? I'd like to see her right away."

Amanda nodded and was quickly on her way.

Fudge was not sure whether he was going to keep Amanda. She had been a loyal assistant, but who had her loyalties at the moment, he wasn't sure. After all, she had been recommended by Albus Dumbledore many years ago. He certainly didn't need anyone on the inside aiding the Headmaster.

There had been a time when he had been keen on receiving advice from Dumbledore, often writing to him several times a day. He had been inexperienced then, unseasoned and naive, it was no wonder he had sought the guidance of the legendary Albus Dumbledore. It was unfortunate that the old man had ultimately lost his mind. He could kiss his career goodbye if he spared even a second to consider the man's blabberings. But that was, possibly, Dumbledore's intention.

Fudge tried to gather the scrolls scattered on his desk into a more manageable pile as he waited eagerly for Mafalda. Usually, he didn't bother with underage use of magic but he had requested to be informed of all matters concerning the Potter boy.

How Potter had come mixed up in all this, Fudge didn't know... Many had guessed that perhaps fame had gotten to his head. He had seemed so charming and down to earth the first time Fudge had seen him, but people could change. The signs had been there for him to see, earlier, but he supposed he had been too kind to him them. The nonsense about Black being innocent and some rat being responsible... He hadn't gotten his face in the Daily Prophet because of that lie, he had made sure of that!

Now, his tales about the return of the Dark Lord would certainly earn him a reputation as the biggest liar in the Wizarding World. The trash campaign against him and Dumbledore was sure to assure the doubters of the fact.

Fudge would still have liked to know what had happened in the maze and how Potter had managed to turn the trophy into a Portkey! He didn't think Potter had killed Cedric Diggory, that far Fudge didn't believe the boy had gone, but something fishy was going on there.

At the knock on his door, he smiled. "Come on in, Mafalda."

Oh, was the boy in trouble now!

* * *

><p><em>August 6th, 1995<em>

He felt as though his heart was going to explode with pleasure; he was flying again, flying away from Privet Drive as he'd been fantasizing about all summer, he was going home . . . for a few glorious moments, all his problems seemed to recede to nothing, insignificant in the vast, starry sky.

-Harry Potter and the Order of the Phoenix

Never did he feel as right as home as he did when on a broom. He had never flown in the open sky before, watching the clouds go by, the stars in the night as well as his Advance Guard, smoothly changing places around him, the switches timed like a clock.

They sped through the air, the rush of wind blowing Harry's troubles and worries away, making him forget about the hearing, about the Dementors and the rest of the horrible summer, even of the reason he had to be escorted by Aurors to safety in the first place.

He wanted to do a few swirls in the air, but didn't think Moody would appreciate it; who knew if he'd make him ride on the back of someone else's broom if he didn't behave. He settled for smiling happily to himself, pondering whether the Dursleys had arrived home yet. His uncle's face, distorted with anger was a much funnier thought when he wasn't there to be on the receiving end of his rage. The thought made him laugh out loud, but the sound was drowned by the whoosh of the wind in their ears.

Like predators surrounding their prey, one by one the guard circled Harry. Kingsley Shacklebolt was on his right, next it was Emmeline Vance, now Sturgis Podmore... Everyone kept their wands at the ready, turning their heads in every direction, continuously scanning the sky for unwanted company.

They hadn't been flying for too long, when the chill of the night started to seep through his clothes, gluing his hands to the broom more tightly... Harry started daydreaming about Mrs Weasley's cooking. With luck, there'd be warm food waiting for him wherever they were going. He wouldn't say no to hot soup.

Harry had lost track of time, Moody shouting directions at timely intervals to dodge Muggle towns and motor ways, when something made Harry look at his left. He didn't see anything, but his instincts were often right. Someone was there.

He was just about to shout out to the others, to look out, when he felt a spell hit him. Momentarily, he expected to fall from his broom or something otherwise bad to happen, but he only felt an odd sensation on his skin. When he had been Disillusioned, it had felt like an egg breaking on his head and trickling down his body, but removing the charm had the opposite effect. It gave the impression of the trickles travelling up his body back into the wand that had cast the magic, making Harry shiver.

He spared a peek at his body. He wasn't a human chameleon anymore; he was just as visible in the night as the rest of the group.

Noticing this, Harry heard Moody swear under his breath as he turned around on his broom and turning his head upwards, trying to see their attackers and casting jinxes into their supposed location. Soon enough, three figures covered by hoods and masks became visible in the night.

"Death Eaters!" Moody shouted as a warning to the others. "Keep flying, Harry, we'll lose them! And keep your head down!"

As Moody said this, the air was suddenly full of different shades of light, flying in all directions between the attackers and the guard. Harry would have been impressed at the exceptional wand work and the quickness of their counter-blows if the situation hadn't been as dire and he wasn't terrified out of his skull.

A flash of red light and Sturgis Podmore was falling off his broom towards the ground with horrifying speed, aimed for a sure death coming from this aimed a spell at his falling body with excellent accuracy, making it descend much more slowly, falling through the air like a feather would.

"Keep going!" Kingsley yelled from above Harry.

No one paid the body any mind after that. Harry hoped Sturgis landed somewhere safe, and not in a lake or in the middle of a road.

The hooded people weren't aiming at Harry, but trying to fly between him and his guards, shooting them with curses and driving them farther away. They were trying to separate him from the rest of the group to make him easier to snatch.

Little by little, they were succeeding. Hestia Jones, currently on his right side, was forced to drift away to avoid being knocked off her broom, leaving that side unguarded. Harry tried to circle around the Death Eaters, but it was for naught as more and more attackers appeared from nowhere.

Harry wondered wildly if Voldemort had had his followers attend compulsory flying lessons to enter his services.

Lupin showed up from somewhere, shooting a jinx at the man or woman closest to Harry, but was blocked. The counter-strike almost hit the professor, but the men seemed to be quite equal in skill, the fight going nowhere.

At last, a curse with an odd incantation managed to get through Lupin's defences, making his lose altitude and disappear out of sight. Horrified, Harry turned to see where his old professor had disappeared to, but to his relief he saw Lupin conscious and able to regain height before he could hit the the ground.

Curses with bright green light were freely flying in the air now. Harry didn't think anyone on their side had been killed yet, but it was only a matter of time. In the worst case scenario, the guard would be killed off one by one, leaving him alone with the Death Eaters. Moody had mentioned a back up crew that would take their place in case they were all taken out, but he was not going to wait for them. The blood of Cedric Diggory was already on his hands, he couldn't handle anyone else's. If Lupin were to die, Sirius would have lost all of his best friends along with his godson -

Trying not to stop and think about the implications of what this would mean for his own fate, he crouched down over his broom and prepared for take off.

"Harry, no!" bellowed a distressed sounding Tonks from somewhere, but Harry didn't even have time to comprehend from what direction it was coming from. He ignored her and swerved to the left, weaving his way between the Death Eaters, away from the circle and took off into a dive, wanting to get as far away from the fight as possible. Combined with the power of his broom and his slight frame that allowed him to speed smoothly through the air, he was able to shake off his pursuers as they were far too heavily-built to keep up with him.

For a while, he could see no one else in the heights with him and he had a moment to think he was safe – but that one second of relaxing and slowing down cost him. A Death Eater Harry didn't remember seeing before, had managed to circle in front of him and cut off his escape. He was forced to stop so abrutly he almost flew off his broom from the front.

He was lean and small, his posture giving away a history of flying experience. It was no wonder he was the one that had been able to catch up to Harry. The man's wand was pointing directly at his heart.

"You're surrounded, boy! There's no escaping now", bellowed a voice from behind him and with a start Harry realized it was right. Having caught up with him, several figures were circling him in the air, his guard nowhere to be seen. "Fly down!"

Harry saw no other choice as he couldn't stay on his broom for the rest of eternity. He didn't think they'd knock him off his broom as he figured Voldemort wanted to kill him himself and the drop of several hundred feet would easily kill him... He considered this option fleetingly, but decided against it as it was practically suicide.

With his heart somewhere around his throat, he started to aim his Firebolt towards the ground, intending to land near the edge of a thick forest. He accelarated into a quick dive, faintly hoping to lose them again. Maybe there was a small change to run by foot into the woods and lose them, he could hide until Lupin and the rest would find him there. Once on the ground, he threw the Firebolt onto the ground, knowing it was no use to try to fly it amongst the trees. He attempted to break into a run, but soon felt a cold hand land on his shoulder.

"Master's going to be pleased to see you", rasped the man, and Harry felt his insides drop into something ice-cold. It was Nott. He had relived the night in his dreams enough times to know everyone who had been there to witness the rebirth of Lord Voldemort, even if he'd only heard the man speak once.

Desperately, Harry tried to raise his wand to curse him off, but Nott noticed, stopping his efforts by pressing the tip of his own wand against his throat. The man was close enough for Harry to smell the heavy stench of sweat coming from him.

"Don't bother, boy", he growled. "Drop it."

More Death Eaters dropped from their brooms, five in total, circling Harry and Nott. Harry wasn't sure if there'd been more people in pursuit in the beginning or not. Not seeing any way around it he obeyed, his wand slipping out of his grasp and falling into the moist grass.

Harry recognized several of the men around him, Lucius Malfoy's cold and hard eyes staring straight at him. He tried to appear brave, keeping his head high and staring back. Noticing this, Malfoy's lips twisted into a cruel smile.

Harry couldn't believe how his biggest worry only a short week ago, had been boredom and being left out in the dark. He'd even take on a few dementors gladly, those he could handle. He knew the game had been lost; he was going back to Voldemort and there was no way out this time.

Lucius crouched down at Harry's feet to retrieve the wand. He considered kicking his side, just for the fun of it, but Lucius stood up soon, running his fingers on the wand and examining it carefully. Harry felt sick.

"The Order clearly isn't up to their task anymore. Giving you up this easily. They should have known there'd always be someone lurking around that house of yours", Lucius mused, still handling the wand.

"They weren't prepared, that's for sure", Nott agreed, his grip on Harry painfully tight.

One of the hooded Death Eaters moved around, restless. "Why are we standing around jacking? Let's get going. Master won't like it if Potter gets injured in another fight, the Order folk will find us eventually. "

Lucius nodded, shoving Harry's wand into his robes, keeping his own at the ready. "Nott, you've got Potter? You can go first, wait for us in the yard. "

Nott nodded. "Hold onto my arm", he said to Harry who saw no reason to resist at this point. They could just as easily knock him out and transport him that way. He held on to Nott's arm, feeling like a little kid being escorted home by a police man. Suddenly, he realized he'd have his first experience Apparating with a Death Eater.

END OF CHAPTER ONE

* * *

><p>Fudge had no idea how right he was.<p>

There you go, first chapter of the story. Please comment, give _constructive _criticism (please don't make me cry, I'm quite fragile), ideas, whatever comes to mind.

If you see typos, errors in logic, anything, please let me know so I can correct them. I haven't been writing in a very long time and I'm worried it might show.

Until next time!


	2. Chapter 2

A/N: Sorry it took a while. I had to revise this chapter about a million times because I was never satisfied with it, even though there isn't much action. I landed a temp job so I've been pretty tired after work, hence the lazy writing. Once I'm unemployed again, I'll have more time to write. Sarcastic yay...

With this chapter, I found it difficult to decide which facts from the book I should explain again, for instance if you were reading the book at this point, you wouldn't know what kind of Grimmauld Place is, whose house it is et cetera. I don't want to explain everything again, so I'm assuming the readers know that Sirius is pureblood and all that stuff. I have to assume everyone who reads this, has read all the books.

If it gets confusing, let me know. To tell the truth, I'm confused myself.

CHAPTER TWO

__August 2nd, 1995__

The group that arrived at Grimmauld Place wasn't the one that had been expected. The guard was quiet as they stepped into the hallway. The gas lamps Moody had just ignited gave them enough light to proceed further into the house.

Tonks didn't bother to apologize as she clumsily knocked down an umbrella stand, waking up the delightful portrait of Sirius' late mother, who started yelling and shouting insults at them. Usually it took much more effort, but this time a flick of Kingsley's wand was enough to silence the haggard woman. Apparently even the portrait could sense the change in the atmosphere.

If it was possible for Lupin's spirits to plummet more, they did as he saw Mrs. Weasley appearing out of the door at the end of the hall, smiling widely at them. "There you are!"

"I'll inform Dumbledore immediately", Moody said, walking away without saying anything to Molly. Lupin couldn't help but think of how different the scene would have been if they had made it there with Harry. The boy certainly could have used some of Molly's mothering.

It didn't take long for her smile to die and for her to grow alarmed as she saw the faces of the arrivals. "What- What's going on? Where's Harry?"

Lupin was the broodiest of them all as he stepped forward, enclosing her hand in his own. He found it hard to look her in the eye. "I'm so sorry, Molly. We failed."

Molly shook her head, perhaps hoping it to be a cruel joke. "No, you couldn't have. Where is he?"

Lupin stood under her radiating worry, not knowing how to put the situation into words, when Kingsley stepped in to speak with her. "Has the meeting started yet? We need to figure out what to do."

Lupin closed his eyes momentarily as he could faintly hear a distressed shout coming from somewhere in the house.

Molly heard it as well, her head turning between the men and the source of the sound. "Yes, everyone is here -"

Kingsley nodded and strode way, the rest of the group leaving as well. Lupin gave Molly one more sorrowful glance before going the same way as Kingsley, aiming for the kitchen where he knew the meeting to be held. Still confused, Molly followed.

At the door to the kitchen, Dumbledore was waiting, as glum as the rest of them. He didn't waste any time on greetings. "I've informed the Order about the incident. Let's go in, I need to hear what happened."

The group poured into the room, each taking a seat at the table while the members already present greeted them halfheartedly.

Molly sat down next to Arthur who whispered something into her ear while Lupin turned away, not wanting to see her reaction.

A pained silence filled the area as no one seemed to be willing to start the story. At last, Dumbledore took pity on them and broke the silence. He looked at each of the members of the guard in turn. "What happened tonight was unfortunate, but no one can blame you for it. You risked your lives on this task."

Some of the tension drained away, everyone having feared Dumbledore's reaction to the events. The press might have been trying to label him an outdated buffoon this past summer, but they had never seen Dumbledore angry.

Lupin decided to be the one to start. "At first, everything went according to plan. We arrived at the Dusleys' house, the family had left for the fake contest..."

While Lupin was speaking, Moody entered the room with Snape. Snape seemed unaffected by the situation, as mysterious and hating of everyone as always. Moments later, Sirius arrived, making Lupin stammer. He had figured that Sirius had needed a moment to gather his composure and he had been expecting his friend, but seeing Harry's godfather wasn't much of a pick-me-up in the current situation.

He cleared his throat and kept going while Sirius took a seat next to Tonks. "The Death – Death Eaters arrived out of nowhere. We noticed it when someone broke the Disillusion Charm and Harry became clearly visible again."

He narrated the following fight with the rest of the group jumping in with additions and their sides to the story.

"We were losing", admitted Moody. "We were caught off-guard and they had us cornered and outnumbered."

"I'm guessing Harry saw that and decided not to risk our lives when he flew away", Tonks said. " I had a chance to talk with him while we packed, he seemed like a nice kid."

"It was foolish", argued Moody. "He had no chance going off on his own with that many Death Eaters. He knew we were prepared to die for the cause; he should have let us to do our job."

"He would never let you do that if he could do anything to prevent it", Sirius said, speaking for the first time and making everyone jump. "Harry is...much like his father was in that way."

His voice broke at the end and Tonks tried to comfort him by putting a hand on his shoulder. Lupin couldn't help but notice that it lingered there.

"No matter how we see what Harry did, it happened", he said wearily. "Please continue."

Moody recounted how most of the Death Eaters went after Harry, the rest keeping them from following. The Death Eaters had a clear advantage; they were ready to kill when the Order was not. If the war continued in the same way it had the last time, the policy might soon change.

"When we finally got there, they were gone", said Kingsley. "Must have Disapparated with Harry."

"We scoured the area and didn't find a body at least", grumbled Moony.

Sirius made a pained noise, resembling the sound a whining dog would make.

Moony ignored him. "Nevertheless, we need to face the facts. He could be dead already. But I think we can presume they had orders to deliver him alive to their master."

"That much is certain", confirmed Snape. "The Dark Lord would like to do it himself."

"How did you not know about this?" asked Sirius angrily.

"Master doesn't tell me everything", Snape replied without looking at Sirius, directing his words at the rest of the table. "I haven't proven myself to be trustworthy yet. And we knew they would be watching the house. I had no idea they would try to snatch him now.

"I agree, you'd think they wouldn't try it now if You-Know-Who wants to stay hidden", said Kingsley. "But maybe he figured the trash campaign has had enough effect so no one will even look for Harry. Fudge has been playing into You-Know-Who's hands in that aspect. "

"They'll make it look he ran away to get attention or something", commented Tonks, wrinkling her nose in disdain at the idea. "It's ridiculous, but it'll fit the story. "

The next half hour was spent throwing ideas on how to proceed, but not much progress was made as they didn't have much to go on. They had no idea where Harry was as their spy, Snape, could only hint at the location of Voldemort's headquarters, and they couldn't even be sure if Harry had been brought there.

The man in question rose, Dumbledore doing so as well. They regarded each other grimly.

"Sir, I think it's time", said Snape. His complexion was even paler than usual, the only sign he was nervous about returning to his spying duties.

"Yes, Severus, I think so. Good luck."

Snape left the kitchen, his robes fluttering after him and giving him the usual dramatic effect. The group watched him go quietly, knowing they wouldn't learn the location even if Snape managed to get it. They could only the news he brought would be positive.

Dumbledore addressed the group. "Thank you for your ideas and the guard for telling the story. There's not much we can do until Professor Snape's update, so I suggest we get some well-earned sleep and convene once we hear from him."

That concluded the meeting. The Order members rose, and soon only the residents of Grimmauld Place were present. Molly was resting her head on her husband's shoulder, her eyes closed. Bill patted her on the shoulder before exiting, as did Kingsley.

Sirius was still sitting as well, staring at the table. His eyes were glazed, and Lupin was quite certain he hadn't been listening for a while, maybe because of the shock.

Lupin appeared at his side. "Sirius..."

Sirius didn't jump, but it took him a moment to focus on his friend. "Yes, Moony?"

"Look, you shouldn't worry. We will get him back."

"I'm sure you're right", he replied, but it wasn't convincing.

There was an uncomfortable silence that seemed to stretch. Lupin wasn't sure if Sirius wanted him to bugger off or not, but he couldn't go until he had eased the pit of guilt that threatened to consume him.

"I'm sorry", Lupin finally blurbed out. "I'm sorry I didn't get him here safe. I.. feel like I failed you."

"It wasn't your fault, Moony", Sirius replied, turning to him. This time his voice was sincere. "It's Voldemort who's doing this, and it's only him we should blame."

Lupin felt some of the weight lifting off and he nodded gratefully. The relief was short lived when he realized that perhaps Sirius wasn't in shock. He had seen that look enough times to know when his friend was planning something.

Lupin frowned. "You're not thinking of going after him alone, are you? You know that'd be insane. You know what Dumbledore said."

Sirius didn't reply. Lupin grabbed his arm. "Don't go out there, Padfoot. Imagine how Harry will feel if his godfather isn't here when we get him back."

"We might not have to worry about that, Moony", Sirius said quietly. "He could already be gone."

Lupin tried to say something in reply, but Sirius had already turned away. He was sure he would later find him with he large bottle of Firewhisky Mundungus had brought him just yesterday.

Molly had let the table and came to speak with Lupin. Her eyes were red, but her stance was determined, and there was no sign of tears. "The children need to be told. I will speak to them, of course, but I thought you could explain the situation to Ron and Hermione first. They'll take it hard and they might respond to you better as you were there when it happened. You were their favorite professor, so they might even listen to you."

Lupin wanted to say no, but it wasn't fair to let Molly to carry all of the burden. He nodded.

Molly patted his arm. "Thank you. When you tell them, I hope you make a point that it would be of no use if they ran off on their own. If you understand what I'm saying."

"Crystal clear. I will personally tie them to their beds if necessary", Lupin replied, getting a huffed laugh out of Molly.

He set off to the dark stairs leading up to the bedrooms, not looking forward to the task.

He had a feeling they would be waiting for Harry in the room he and Ron would share. Would have shared, he corrected himself, in a way of bracing himself for the questions he would have to answer.

Sure enough, as soon as he opened the door, Hermione was there, ready to jump to hug him. She faltered as she realized she had almost run to embrace her old professor.

"Professor Lupin", she said, embarrassed. "I wasn't expecting you."

Lupin tried to smile. "Clearly not."

Ron was looking over his shoulder. He did this easily as he had once again sprouted in height this summer. "Is he with you?"

"No, he is not", he sighed as he closed the door behind him. "You should probably sit down."

Sensing he didn't have good news, they obeyed, Hermione taking the chair by the window and Ron sitting on the edge of his bed while Lupin remained standing.

He wasn't sure how to start, but he figured it was better to spare the suspense as he wasn't sure if the kids were breathing, tension in the room palpable. "I suppose you've already guessed that something bad has happened, and it has. Harry isn't with me, because we were attacked on the way. The Death Eaters managed to snatch him."

Hermione gasped and put her hands on her mouth, while Ron jumped to his feet, outraged.

"What?" he bellowed and let out a few curse words his mother wouldn't have approved.

"Is he alive?" Hermione asked quietly, clearly afraid of the answer.

Lupin sighed. "We don't know that. We have no way of knowing if Voldemort has other plans for Harry besides... Well, we'll know more soon."

"What are you doing to get him back?" Ron asked loudly.

"Ron, you know I can't talk about it."

Ron opened his mouth to argue but with a look closely resembling the one Molly used on a daily basis, Hermione quieted him down.

"Professor Lupin", she started to reason, "We know you can't talk about _specific _Order business with us, but if you could tell us something, it would really help to ease our minds. He's our best friend!"

She was pleading now, and Lupin could feel his determination dwindle. If someone had come to tell him, when he had been fifteen, that Sirius or James (he decided not to include Peter on purpose) was in danger and he wasn't privy to all the details, there would've been hell to pay. He was actually quite proud of the way Ron and Hermione were handling the news.

He chose his next words carefully. "We'll know very soon if he is alive or not. Until that we can't do much. But I can promise you, we'll do everything we can."

When they still seemed doubtful, he added. "You can trust me. I care about Harry just as much as you do, I will do _everything_ possible to bring him home. And I'll make sure you're updated. Okay?"

Hermione appeared satisfied and gave him a nod.

"Thanks", Ron said shortly. "But how did it happen?"

Lupin explained how the fight had happened and how Harry had been caught. Hermione and Ron shared a somewhat tired look.

"I love Harry, but he makes things really hard sometimes", Hermione sighed. Ron frowned at the word 'love', but didn't comment on it.

Lupin was ready to leave when he realized he had almost forgotten his promise to Molly.

"Oh, one more thing." The kids turned nervous. "I know Harry is your best friend and the three of you have experienced some dangerous situations that you've survived unscathed. This isn't one of them. You need to promise not to try to do anything on your own, because it wouldn't end well."

They fidgeted, guilty. "We promise", they said in unison.

Outside the room, Lupin took a moment to lean against the door, the serpent doorhandle digging into his back. He could hear Ron and Hermione talking nervously. He hoped his words had had some effect; he was not above making his promise come true and physically keeping them inside the house.

A moment later, he could make out two cracks coming from the room, knowing that the twins had arrived. If they'd been up to their tricks, they had heard everything he'd said.

He started the journey back downstairs. Too many thoughts were going through his head, slowly but surely trying to give him a stress headache. One thought was the most relentless, however.

"We will get him back, James", Lupin said to the heavens, hoping his friend was listening. "I promise."

END OF CHAPTER TWO

Ron and Hermione's reactions were pretty hard to write, but I suppose they'd try to keep their cool with Lupin in the room. I hope the scene worked.


	3. Chapter 3

A/N: Hello again! Thank you so much for your alerts, favorites and reviews. Every time I get an alert I feel guilty if I'm not writing, so it's a way to get the chapters out faster.

This chapter is a bit longer than the first two, hope you like it!

CHAPTER THREE

_August 4th, 1995_

Harry was bored.

The initial reaction to being thrown in a almost completely dark, musty, damp cellar when he had expected to be thrown directly at the feet of of Lord Voldemort, had been a bit anticlimactic. Now, he was lying on a muddy mattress, made damp by the humidity of the cellar, staring at the ceiling he could barely see in the darkness and that was the most active he had been in a long while.

It was hard to keep track of time, but after his imprisonment had lasted for several hours, or so he gathered, he had stopped fearing for Voldemort to appear at the door and kill him on sight. The mattress and the pillow should have been few of his first clues to prove he was staying... There obviously was something else behind this or he would have been killed immediately. It didn't comfort him terribly; anything Lord Voldemort had planned for him, couldn't be very pleasant. But at least he was still alive.

Alive, but with absolutely nothing to fill his time with. It was impossible to fall into the same state of indifference and trance he had been in while at Privet Drive, as much more was at stake now than a Ministry hearing.

Harry could only hope the stunt that had ended up with him here had been worth it and everyone had escaped alive. That hope was much of the reason he was still keeping his sanity. Alone and scared, his mind kept wandering to bad places and dark thoughts threatened to consume him. He had learned to hate waiting, and now he had no idea what he was waiting for.

He had examined every inch of the room and found nothing, but that didn't surprise him. It would've been amusing, though very lucky, if Voldemort let him escape because of a hole in the wall. He snickered faintly at the thought, proving furthermore that he was exhausted. He ran a hand over his face and through his grimy hair, more disheveled than ever before. It wasn't only the mattress that made proper sleep impossible, but also because he was jolted awake by every noise he heard, or imagined he heard. Every once in a while, he could catch faintly spoken conversation coming from above, but it wasn't possible to make out the words.

There was a loud noise coming from outside the door, making Harry jump to his feet. He spared a moment to ponder whether he had imagined this noise as well, but he was convinced when he heard a voice. "Step away from the door."

He honestly wanted to throw a tantrum and not move an inch, but he figured Nott would take pleasure making him pay for that. If Harry was even close to estimating the time, he had arrived there two days prior. Harry had been disorientated to say the least after his first experience with Apparation. He understood why many people preferred brooms or Floo-Powder to this; he didn't consider being crushed from all directions and not being able to breathe pleasant.

After they had appeared out of thin air, Nott had pushed him forward hard and told him to walk, making Harry almost fall on his face. This had apparently been hilarious to the group. The Death Eaters had been forced to almost drag him inside and didn't bother to be gentle about it. At least he had figured out where they were. The huge mansion with a giant courtyard was a clue in itself, but while being dragged through a hallway, he had managed to catch a glimpse of a huge portrait; a family of blonde, pale faced people with a Latin phrase written in big words underneath.

Harry had already put Nott on his least favorite person list, but the way he emerged, holding his wand lazily as if not expecting anything remotely threatening to happen... It didn't help that Harry's quiet rebellion, a look of contempt, head held high and arms crossed, was making him more amused than impressed.

The resemblance between Nott and his son Theodore was easy to see; the older wasn't as thin, but he had the same face shape, same brown hair and was tall as well. It was hard to believe that the man was here mocking him while his son was the same age as Harry and in the same school.

In his other hand he was holding a sparse tray of food. He set it on the floor, some of the juice in the mug spilling on the door. "There you go, Potter. Wouldn't want you to starve, would we? Also, this. There was an article I thought you'd enjoy", he added, with a sarcastic edge. A paper was thrown carelessly on the floor.

Nott grinned ruefully before exiting. Harry had trouble keeping still until he had gone, almost shaking where he was standing, wanting to wipe the smile off the man's face. Because he supposed he had to try, he went to the door handle and tried it once he was gone. Harry kicked the door for good measure, working some of his frustrations on it. It was a less hurtful target for him than the wall had been.

Remembering he had food, he rushed to it and started stuffing his mouth with bread. He'd been given food there before, but he couldn't tell how long it had been since the last time he ate. The ache in his stomach made itself known only now that there was something to put in there, his experience with hunger coming in handy for once. Halfway done it occurred to him that he ought to save some, not knowing when he'd be fed next. _This may be the last time anyway_, said a voice in his head.

He sat down on the mattress once again, picked up the Daily Prophet, nothing catching his eye on the first page. It did give him the date, August 4th. He'd been here for two days, even if it did feel like a week. We wondered briefly why Nott would give him reading material and what kind of articles he could possibly think Harry would enjoy, when a horrible thought occurred to him, filling his insides with cold that didn't have anything to do with the stale pumpking juice he was drinking. He skimmed the headlines, his fingers soon smudged with ink as he rushed through the paper, but the headlines didn't have any familiar names in them.

Harry sighed in relief, allowing himself a moment of reprieve before deciding to read it more carefully, eager for news from the outside world. His heart jumped at the small mention of Sirius, but it was only an update on his search; still uncaptured. He forced himself to only skim the article and plow forward. It wasn't good to dwell on his godfather now. The night before, or what Harry's skewed inner clock assumed was night time, he'd been lying awake imagining Sirius learning of Harry's capture and probable death... If he was living in caves like he'd been the previous year, it could take months before he learned the news.

Every time his thoughts drifted to Sirius, they always led to Ron and Hermione as well, consuming him with painful guilt. His anger had felt justified in the summer, but now his behaviour seemed ridiculous, demanding answers when they clearly couldn't tell him anything. Even here, he felt his face heat up with shame. With no one there to see it, he drew in a deep breath and returned to reading.

With the way he had been reading the Prophet that summer, only browsing the headlines before discarding it, he wouldn't have even noticed the short article.

_Surprise rescue of Theo Jones aged 5_

_On August 1s t_,_Theo Jones, age 5, was out on a stroll with his parents and little sister Sara, 3. Neither of the kids had shown any previous signs of magical powers, so the parents didn't know to expect anything unsual to happen. Suddenly, Theo was sent flying ten feet into the air and was left twirling in the air above his sister, while she watched on and giggled. _

_After the parents had recovered of the shock they tried to magic him down, but they were too late as Theo started to fall. Luckily, at the last second, the fall stopped and Theo dropped only from three feet. _

_The children found the incident more funny than scary and Theo survived with a few scratches. Let's hope he doesn't have a scar on his forehead or we'll soon be forced to do another installation of his adventures. _

Harry read the story several times, but he couldn't think of anyone else they could be referencing. He tried to turn it around in his head, but there was no way to interpret as anything but mocking. Why did he feel worse when it wasn't direct? He hadn't really thought about the last article Rita Skeeter had wrote about him, the one where he'd been painted disturbed and making up stories, because he had been getting ready for the third task. She'd managed to even convince Fudge, who Harry'd gotten along with in the past.

Harry went through the rest of the articles. He didn't find more mentions of him, but he did find one of Dumbledore. The article was about the Wizengamot's recent verdict. When reading between the lines, the point of it seemed to be that the decicion was much more strict and sensible that what it would've been if Dumbledore had been the one heading the ruling.

Dumbledore had left the Wizengamot? Harry's head was spinning. He doubted the headmaster had left willingly. He could recall the hostility between him and Fudge in the infirmary after Voldemort's return, Dumbledore basically disregarding Fudge's authority. Fudge had done the same to Dumbledore but removed it altogether if you didn't include Hogwarts.

How had he missed it? There hadn't been one mention of Voldemort in the paper all summer and now it seemed that Harry and Dumbledore were being discredited. He had expected the Wizarding World to eventually come to realize that Voldemort had returned, even if the Prime Minister had been reluctant to listen to him last June. If this had been going on all summer, there certainly was no reason for anyone to start believing him now.

Harry wasn't sure if he wanted to cry or scream at the top of his lungs. Here he was, captured by Voldemort who, according to everyone else, didn't exist. A horrible, gut wrenching thought occurred to him as he wondered if anyone was even looking for him. _Get a grip,_ a voice inside his head replied to this, _have some faith. _

He tried to calm his breathing. Lupin and the others had been taking him to 'headquarters', so other people had to be involved in addition to Dumbledore. But what could he and maybe a handful of people do if everyone else refused to believe what was happening?

Up until that point, Harry had been proud of himself for containing his fear, but now it threatened to choke him. He had a flash of Cedric Diggory on the ground, killed for being in Voldemort's way and imagined that becoming commonplace.

Harry spent the last burst of fight he had in him for throwing the Daily Prophet across the room. Theflutter it did in the air while falling on the door was very unsatisfying.

As James Potter awoke, his first thought was that he must have been asleep for a long while and wondered what the time it was.

His head ached, making him wonder if he had been out with his friends the previous night. That most likely wasn't the case as he felt quite rested, very unlike the way he felt after most nights out. He hadn't done much partying lately anyway. He cracked open one eye and determined it was still dark. If he could just get a glimpse of the alarm clock, he'd know it it would make sense to go back to sleep...

He felt a hand on his shoulder, trying to shake him awake. It was much like his wife, trying to rouse him before the alarm and getting him up on time. The shaking was becoming more intense, so James saw no other choice but to open his eyes.

Lily was the culprit, crouched down next to him. Her body was trembling, her eyes wide open in alarm. That woke him up quicker than the alarm clock or a cup of coffee ever could have. "What's going on?" he asked immediately.

"Look around you", said Lily quietly.

Confused, James did as was asked. He realized they weren't in their comfortable bed in their home, but outside, lying on the cold hard ground. How he had confused the pile of leaves under his head for a pillow, he'd never know. A second look confirmed that they were currently in the middle of a graveyard. He thought he saw a figure standing behind the last row of graves, but as he blinked and tried to focus his gaze, it was gone, making him unsure if he had seen anything at all. Judging from the names on the row next to him, they were at their very own graveyard in Godric's Hollow.

"What the... " he muttered as Lily stared at him. She was wearing her nightgown for some reason. He looked down on himself and noticed he had on his blue pajamas, the ones that matched Harry's. Lily had given them to him as a joke the previous Christmas, saying that she might as well start giving them the same presents as James was practically a child himself.

James rose from the ground and tried to shake some of the dirt off his clothes. Only now he realized how cold he was; he wasn't sure of the month, but he couldn't mistake the cold Autumn breeze that was now piercing through his clothes. Neither of them had any shoes on. Lily must have been freezing in her sleeveless nightdress, but she didn't show it, looking at him with fierce expression.

"Do you remember what happened?" she asked. He had a feeling that she already knew and was waiting for him to catch up. Typical.

James racked his brain, trying to put together the pieces. It had been Halloween. He remembered playing with Harry, the baby laughing with him, clapping his chubby hands at his antics.

Then it hit all at once. The terror. Voldemort. Lily running. Green light.

An iron fist hit his chest and for a second he was unable to breathe. He stared at his wife, now unsure of what he was seeing. He was staring into her eyes when he had been sure to he would die, knowing that his wife and son would soon perish after him.

"It's real", said Lily, answering the question left unasked. "We did really die. There's no way around it."

"The last thing I saw was Voldemort's ugly face so I'd think so", said James trying for sarcasm, but his voice shook. He tried to shove the memories down, but no matter how hard he tried, the terror he had felt that night couldn't be pushed down.

The corner of Lily's mouth lifted for a second. "Be serious, James, please."

"I think this situation is serious enough", said James.

With a grimace faintly resembling a smile and derermined James was alright, Lily left his side and set out between the rows of tombstones with a mission. James wondered how much time she'd had to come to grips with the situation as she acted so composed.

"What are you doing?"

"Looking for us", said Lily, not stopping her search. James almost hoped she wouldn't find what she was looking. He didn't find comformation of their deaths that important or reassuring at the moment.

"Come look!"

James hurried to his wife who was pointing at a white marble grave at their feet a few rows to the right of the spot they had been lying on. The names were easy enough to read, but it was hard to register them in his brain. James and Lily Potter, died 31 October 1981... James felt seriously creeped out to think that they had been resting there, six feet under, and now they were standing there over their own grave. He couldn't even start to marvel how impossible this all was.

"The engraving's beautiful. _The last enemy that shall be destroyed is death_", she read off the tomb. James gave her a look and she shrugged. "It is!"

"Well, it's official. We're dead", said James. "It's impossible, but here we are."

"Where's Harry? Why weren't we... buried together?" said Lily, struggling on the words, voicing the question on both of their minds. They had been expecting a third name on that tombstone.

James shook his head. "I don't know... He couldn't have survived."

He heard a sniffle and saw that Lily was in tears. James stepped over to her, taking her into his arms and held her while he fought against his own tears.

After a while James spoke. "This might be a stupid question, but what was the last thing that happened?"

"It is a stupid question", agreed Lily. She took a deep breath and tried to wipe the tears on her hand. "I ran to the bedroom, tried to beg Voldemort to kill me and not Harry. I tried to shield him... and... I died."

"Maybe someone showed up and saved him?"

James and Lily shared a pained look. They were grasping at straws and both of them knew it as there was no way their son had survived. They stood upon their grave, shivering, mourning for the son they had died protecting. They had spent their last months fearing for this, but had never truly been prepared for the worst.

James felt Lily shiver against his chest. Her bare arms were freezing cold and bright red. "We have to get moving. We'll freeze to death over here."

Once again Lily attempted a smile. "Pun intended?"

Despite the situation, he was impressed by her spirit. "Yep."

They set off to the street, knowing the way by heart, but James felt naked without his wand. He was used to wandering in the dark at night, but doing it without a wand felt insane. It was also eerie to be strolling down Church Lane, passing familiar looking cottages. Neither of them mentioned that one of them had been theirs and made no effort to go look for it. Although they had no idea how long they'd been gone, some time had surely passed as some of the cottages did look different. A playground Harry had liked was still there, but James had the impression it hadn't been cared for in a while; of course it could've been the dark.

After a while of walking aimlessly, a new sense of dread began to creep its way in. It was dark, they were freezing, and they had no idea where to go. They had no way to contact anyone right now without wands or owls, or as Lily pointed out, phones. James didn't dare to consider that there might not be many people to contact as the war could still be raging on.

"Maybe we could stay with Bathilda", suggested Lily.

"I don't know. We don't know how long we'd been dead and she wasn't very young when we last saw her..."

Lily obviously guessed what James was suggesting. "I'm sure she's fine. But I guess we shouldn't just barge in unannounced in the middle of the night..."

"What about the pub?" suggested Lily as the bright sign hit their vision. It was a small and humble building, named simply 'Hal's' after its owner. "There are rooms above it!"

"We have no money", reminded James. "What do you suggest, we beg?"

Lily shrugged. They couldn't think of anything else, so they headed for the center of the village. It hadn't changed much; the same post office was still standing, the retail shops had the same names as did their intended pub.

Godric's Hollow had hardly any nightlife, the pub usually closing around midnight, but the owner had lived above it before, and they were hoping the policy was still the same.

"I wonder if the same man still runs it", wondered Lily as they knocked on the door.

"Wasn't he a Muggle?" asked James.

"Yes, so if it's him, just let me do the talking."

That was most likely wise, figured James. He had gotten them in trouble around Muggles plenty of times. They usually thought he was a criminal of some sort, too messed up to talk any sense, leaving Lily to sort out the situation.

Through the blinds, they saw lights turning on and the door opened. James hadn't had much of a chance to occupy any pubs while living in Godric's Hollow, but he recognized the owner. Hal was in his fifties or sixties, a pleasant looking fellow with thinning hair and a charming personality.

"Hello?" he asked uncertainly, eying their nightclothes suspiciously, wrabbing his own grey robe tighter around him. The band dig into his beer gut that had grown somewhat in size.

"Hello, sir", greeted Lily perhaps a tab too brightly for the time of day. "We were hoping you could help us. Our car broke down near here and we need a place to stay for tonight."

Hal frowned. "Why are you in your nightclothes? It's freezing out there. "

Lily stammered for a second, quickly thinking of a lie. "Well, you see, we're quite... spontaneous people. We wanted to take a trip right away and didn't think to change. We forgot our coats in the car, I think I hit my head..." She wrapped her arms around her midriff more tightly, not having to fake the trembling. James had lost the feeling of the cold a while ago, which wasn't a good sign.

"Well, come in, come in", the owner replied right away and stepped aside to let them in. "I have rooms available."

"We don't have any money on us right now- "

"Don't worry about that now, come in before you freeze. "

They stepped in and the sensation of the heat hitting his body was what James had imagined paradise to be like. Soon his skin was prickling and the feeling returning. The pub was small, a few tables and a counter. If he recalled correctly, the interior was still the same; brown and red with a big landscape painting on the wall that didn't hold the window. The stairs next to the counter led upstairs.

"Have we met before?" he asked, eyeing them carefully.

"I don't think so, sir, we're not from here", lied Lily. She motioned to herself and her husband. "I'm Lily, this is James."

"Nice to meet you, I'm Hal. I'll show you to your room. I think I have some spare clothes that would fit both of you somewhere... How come you don't even have any shoes on?"

They climbed the stairs, leading up to a hallway that had a few doors. He led them into one of them, a small room with a kingsized bed and a window. James had the sense to ask Hal for a newspaper, too. He promised to bring that with their clothes and left them alone for moment.

"Smart. I think he would've been a bit freaked out if he didn't know what year it was", said Lily.

Soon Hal returned with a stack of clothes and that day's newspaper. They thanked him immensely and promised to pay him back soon, but he would hear none of it. In his mind, James promised to pay Hal back generously. Not many people would take on two strangers off the street.

They changed quickly out of their clothes, putting on the warmest ones they could find. Hal's wife was a size bigger than Lily, but the sweatshirt she put on fit her well enough. James was happy to get out of the pajamas and switched them for a warm sweatshirt and pants.

Once they were dressed, Lily picked up the newspaper. James waited expectantly to be informed of the date, not wanting to guess how long it'd been, or not daring to. She stared and stared at it for so long that James started to become worried. "Hun, you alright?"

Lily looked up, alarmed. "James, we've been gone for fourteen years."

END OF CHAPTER THREE


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